There is nothing new in the Wildspire Waste; every day is just sleeping and eating.
The confusion Asterion felt after seeing the Admiral and Hara that day was completely forgotten after a nap. After all, those events were far in the future, and it wasn't his turn to worry about them yet.
Right now, Asterion only wanted to continue preying on creatures rich in bio-energy, accumulating enough power to evolve a pair of wings and finally break free from the limitations of being a flightless wyvern.
Asterion had figured it out: all his problems stemmed from a lack of strength. If he were as strong as Fatalis and could directly become a member of the Forbidden species, would he still be worrying about these things?
So, eating more meat was the only proper business.
The hunters were gradually integrating into the Wildspire Waste as well. Asterion could tell their lives weren't exactly easy; the hunters of the First Fleet were severely lacking in all sorts of supplies.
Moreover, since the First Fleet only had two accompanying technicians, they were truly struggling with how to secure various basic living necessities during the initial construction of their base.
Water filtration equipment, base construction, equipment forging and maintenance... all of this relied on the two people in the technical squad. It nearly worried them bald.
But going bald was useless; what wasn't there, simply wasn't there. Even unscrewing their heads wouldn't help.
During a hunt, Asterion had seen the ship the hunters were building from a distance. To be honest, that small boat could accommodate a dozen people at most, and it looked very unlikely to survive a crossing of the ocean back to the Old World... One could only say that once the boat was finished, it would make it more convenient for the hunters to explore the neighboring Ancient Forest region.
Compared to the desolate Wildspire Waste, the Ancient Forest region was indeed richer in gatherable resources. At the very least, there was no shortage of timber, which would solve some of the hunters' urgent needs.
During this period, the hunters and Asterion maintained a state of mutual peace. The hunters were busy improving the research base—Astera—and Asterion was busy accumulating power for himself.
He had already found the Rathian whose tail he had severed. She was in a small forest near the northwest of the Wildspire Waste. Since the water flowing down from the Ancient Forest passed through here before heading to the flower field swamp area, this region was a rare scenic spot in the Waste, lush with trees and flowers.
Those Rathians who failed the competition in the Ancient Forest's nesting grounds would come here to build nests, lay eggs, and incubate them, while also preying on Apceros in the flower field swamp and adjacent areas.
The trail of that Rathian was actually brought to Asterion by the Kulu-Ya-Ku brothers. While stealing eggs, Sparky happened to discover a physically disabled Rathian—of course, he couldn't forget the guy who had beaten his kid into a coma for so long. So, abandoning the egg he was holding, Sparky ran all the way back to report the news to Asterion.
But unfortunately, by the time Asterion rushed over, the Rathian had already finished eating. Upon noticing Asterion's approach, she immediately flapped her wings and took flight, having absolutely no intention of fighting him again.
She had none of the arrogance of the "Queen of the Land," not even turning her head back as she flew away. It made Asterion curse the spineless dragon in anger—but it was useless. The Tempered Rathian had certainly heard Asterion's roar, but she showed no intention of returning.
It wasn't that surprising. If this Rathian truly had the fighting spirit to never bow her head, she wouldn't have ended up in the Wildspire Waste in the first place... she would have either secured a mate and nested in the canopy of the Giant Tree or died under the claws of other Rathians.
Not planning to challenge a whole group of exiled Rathians at once, Asterion could only gloomily note the direction the Rathian fled. After simply eating an Apceros, he took Sparky and the stolen egg back to the nest.
The rainy season of the Wildspire Waste had arrived once again.
Unlike the neighboring Ancient Forest region, the bio-energy in the veins beneath the Wildspire Waste was obstructed and did not flow smoothly—precisely because of this, these two adjacent coastal regions presented two completely distinct geographical features.
The Ancient Forest region was lush with vegetation and abundant moisture, while the Wildspire Waste was arid and desolate, with desert occupying the majority of the land.
Because of this, every year's rainy season was exceptionally precious to the life living in the Wildspire Waste. Even the usually barren, rocky grounds would be dyed with patches of green during this time.
The plants living here would seize this period to absorb as much water as possible to meet their needs for the entire coming year. They would also use this window to bloom and bear fruit at maximum speed, scattering their seeds.
It wasn't just plants; the rainy season was also the breeding season for animals. Not just wyverns, but ordinary animals as well, such as Kelbi and Shepherd Hares... In short, it was a scene of vibrant life, and everyone was working hard.
The rainy season was a festival belonging to the entire Wildspire Waste, but this time, even though he had already experienced one rainy season after coming to this world, Asterion felt that this gift was a bit too... heavy.
Rainstorms.
Overwhelming rainstorms.
The raindrops smashing into the ground were like an airtight veil, shrouding everything outside the cave in a layer of blurred white mist. But that wasn't mist; it was a thick curtain of rain—for a moment, Asterion even wondered if the ocean had submerged the land, filling the very air with water.
But the air still existed; everything was just an illusion created by his trance.
The rain was simply too heavy, and it had been falling continuously for three or four full days. One only had to climb up and look outside to see that a small stream had already appeared at the entrance of the nest, quickly developing into a large river.
The rainwater gathering on the ground, carrying the silt of the wasteland, formed a yellow river flowing over the surface and through the cracks of the rocks—it was getting closer and closer to the nest's entrance.
Asterion was somewhat worried. If this rain continued, this yellow river would sooner or later flow into the nest, turning his home into a giant puddle.
Most importantly, Sparky had been hungry for a full three or four days. If Asterion hadn't stopped him, he probably would have braved the rainstorm to go out and forage long ago.
Asterion was naturally very hungry as well, but by starting to digest the bio-energy accumulated in his body, he could actually endure for a while longer.
However, Sparky didn't have this ability. To be precise, ordinary wyverns below the level of Elder Dragons generally couldn't effectively utilize the bio-energy existing within their bodies; they could only passively accept its influence.
In other words, starvation meant a potential death.
A normal Kulu-Ya-Ku needed to eat three to four eggs a day. The fact that Sparky could endure for this long meant he was already consuming his stored fat reserves.
"Roar, roar roar roar!" (Here's the deal: you stay here properly, and I'll go get you some eggs.)
After thinking it over, Asterion still didn't feel safe letting Sparky go out—this rainy season was clearly abnormal. There might be some Elder Dragon causing trouble behind the scenes. What if Sparky went out alone and got washed away by the water or killed by other starving monsters?
"Gu-ga!!" (Not afraid!)
Having lived with Sparky for so long, Asterion could now more or less understand what his bird-brained brother was saying.
"Roar!" (Not afraid my ass! Listen to me!)
Roaring grumpily, Asterion raised a claw and pinned Sparky to the ground. With that skinny monkey strength, who was he trying to act tough for?
"Roar roar, roar roar roar roar." (Stay home and don't run around. I'll bring food back for you.)
After repeatedly warning the flighty Kulu-Ya-Ku, Asterion didn't wait for the sky to clear but stepped directly into the storm.
Large, dense raindrops, driven by the gale, pummeled Asterion's shell. If one listened carefully, they could hear the pitter-patter sound.
The paths he used to walk had now completely turned into rivers. With Asterion's weight, he didn't have to worry about being blown away, but this torrential rain, which completely obscured vision and masked hearing, was hardly comfortable.
To be honest, Asterion had actually enjoyed the rainy season last year, liking the sound of raindrops hitting his shell while standing in the rain.
When things are abnormal, an Elder Dragon is surely behind it—this was basically one of the fundamental laws of this world.
Ah, and the second fundamental law is that the first Elder Dragon to pop up is usually not the one actually causing the trouble; they just get chased and beaten by hunters purely out of false accusation.
[Gale], [Heavy Rain]. To be honest, as soon as these two keywords appeared, Asterion immediately thought of a certain guy who might be causing this disastrous rainy season.
Kushala Daora.
If you added a few more constraints like [Night], [Ancient Forest], [5 Purple Rewards], [2 Players 20 Mins], that would be so beautiful it's off the charts... to the point of [1 Cart Fails]. Just thinking about it was an experience.
Asterion first went to the familiar flower field swamp area. The Barroth that usually occupied this place had long since run off to who knows where, probably hiding from the rain in some relatively dry cave.
After all, the current flower field swamp didn't look like a swamp at all; it had turned into a massive lake. Those pale purple flowers had long been submerged, and only the dense splashes kicked up by the rainstorm hitting the lake surface were visible.
Not rushing to the high slopes near the swamp to find those Apceros, Asterion instead walked toward the area closer to the sea—he had already sensed something wrong in the distant sky, where the clouds were twisting.
The dark clouds that should have blanketed the entire sky seemed to be torn apart by a pair of invisible, giant hands at this moment, flowing down from the sky cover like a waterfall. Vertical, like a wall.
Then curling, colliding with each other.
Yes, there were indeed two such giant hands, so that the sky in that direction seemed to be connected to the ground. Azure-blue lightning flashed through it occasionally. When thunder roared and the lightning illuminated the area, one could faintly see huge silhouettes flashing within.
The closer he got to the beach, the more he could feel the heavy oppressive force, as if the sky had been turned upside down. It wasn't just physical pressure in the realistic sense, but the pressure brought by an Elder Dragon.
Standing on a rock near the sea, Asterion could clearly sense the Elder Dragon aura hidden in the approaching sea breeze and the rain pouring down on his head.
Different from the pressure brought by the slag expelled by Zorah Magdaros in the past, this was a pressure from a completely different creature, yet one that definitely existed on the same tier.
Asterion saw it.
There were two Kushala Daoras battling in the sky above the sea.
One of them moved with greater agility and flexibility, possessing silver-gray scales that looked as deep as steel under the illumination of the lightning. The other was entirely tea-brown; its scales not only failed to reflect light but seemed dark and dull, as if absorbing it.
Asterion couldn't see much more. The battle between the two Kushala Daoras was intense. The wind they controlled tore wildly at everything in the sky, wrapping them in pitch-black cloud masses. Only when one side occasionally gained the upper hand and broke out could Asterion catch a few glimpses.
Case solved.
The culprit turning this year's rainy season into a flood disaster was Kushala Daora. Not just one, but two.
Undoubtedly members of the Elder Dragon species. Even if Kushala Daora belonged to the lower tier within the Elder Dragon group, they were still not something ordinary wyverns could mess with.
As the name implies, Kushala Daora is covered in a steel shell. Wyverns whose diet includes ore mostly possess something similar, just as Asterion had a Great Sword forged from ore on his tail.
But unlike Asterion, Kushala Daora possesses a shell of pure metal. This metal shell is its bone, its flesh, and its scales—a structure of metallic layers stacked upon one another.
As a knowledgeable Glavenus, Asterion easily identified the condition of that tea-brown Kushala Daora. Without a doubt, that was a Kushala Daora in the midst of molting.
When a Kushala Daora's skin is exposed to wind, sun, air, and moisture for a long time, or as its body size increases with age, its original outer skin rusts and oxidizes like real metal objects, thus requiring it to molt.
But this is where things got strange. According to Asterion's memory, a molting Kushala Daora is known as a Rusted Kushala Daora. Due to the extreme pain caused by molting, a Kushala Daora in this state exhibits ferocity and aggression far exceeding its normal state, and its movements become more agile and active because of this pain.
simply put, it jumps around from the pain.
But the Rusted Kushala Daora in the sky right now was not like that. Compared to its silver-gray kin, it should have been the one more active and restless due to the pain of molting, but the fact was that this Rusted Kushala Daora was at a disadvantage most of the time, being suppressed and beaten by the other one.
A bizarre occurrence.
What did this mean? Was the other Kushala Daora some kind of Tempered Kushala Daora, or even an Arch-Tempered Kushala Daora?
It didn't look like it... after all, that silver-gray Kushala Daora was even slightly smaller in size than the Rusted one.
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